Allure of Evil Charms: A Young Palpatine Fanfiction
by TheLastUnicorn123
Summary: Fem OC (you) X Palpatine. Loosely based with the Darth Plagueis novel. You are of noble blood and a famous writer, but are hindered by a disability. Your past has made you cold and distant. But a ball changes your life. As does a man with a silver tongue. Rated M just in case. Just a random idea I had. Don't know how regularly I will update, but will try to be consistent. Love!
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_**

You didn't want to come to Coruscant. However, as usual, your friends managed to twist your arm, forcing you to attend a fancy ball in the richest part of the planet. Something about you needing to be "social". They were constantly worried by your love of solitude. They never understood the draining effect people had on you. Besides, making small talk isn't something you're good at. Your mutism crushes that social skill.

You were always just a fill-in. An extra body to make your friends look popular and personable. If they could tolerate the awkward, mute girl, then they must have an _amazing_ personality, right? And, in many ways, your friends were your own fill-ins. Only there to give you the appearance of being a well-rounded person.

Now you and your friends exit a large speeder and walk through the elaborate doors to the ballroom. All your friends' dresses are form fitting, riding high on their thighs, but low on their cleavage. It takes all your will-power not to roll your eyes.

 _How pathetic,_ you think to yourself. _So typical!_

Your friends hold ridiculously tiny coin clutches in their hands, causing you to instantly stand out with the clunky purse on your shoulder (in which is a book you've smuggled when your friends weren't looking). You all walk up to the large man at the door who was checking invitations. He smiles flirtatiously at your friends as he lets them in, but his smile fades when you walk past. Moments like this used to bother you. Now they feel natural. You just walk past the bouncer coldly, your eyes narrowing at him.

The room is stifling. Its walls are made of mahogany with black crystal chandeliers sparkling from dome ceilings, making you feel insignificant. You can instantly smell the tinge of over-priced booze and the aroma of imported cuisine. The music is elegant, but overwhelming. Each note seems to penetrate your mind.

And you can feel _them_.

You can feel every person in the room, as if their energy is clinging to your own. Lust, need for attention, ego, intoxication… you feel it all. It sickens your core, making your stomach muscles tighten in repulsion. You freeze your steps as you begin to feel disoriented from the onslaught of auras. Your vision blurs as lights dance in your pupils, the room looking fuzzy as it begins to spin.

Leeli is the first one to notice your distress. She hesitantly strays from the group and returns to your side. She is a snob like the rest of them, but has moments of empathy.

"Are you alright?" she asks gently.

You nod while your legs tremble beneath you. Leeli's amber eyes examine your face and scan your body, not believing your silent reassurances.

"Sit," she subtly orders as she takes your forearm and leads you to a highbacked chair against the wall. She sits you down on the plush cushion. Her glossy mouth was about to speak, when the rest of your friends started to wave at her.

"Leeli! Get over here! I found the guys. Leave her there. She's fine!" Jinn yells across the room.

Leeli does a double-take between you and Jinn. Eventually, she walks away from you, sending you an apologetic wave as she does so. An all-too-familiar scene. She quickly returns to the group, smiles plastered on their faces as several well-groomed gentlemen begin to swarm them. You can see bulges form within many of the gentlemen's pants.

 _Rutting pigs!_

You shrug off your large purse and place it on your lap, letting your head lean against the back of the chair. Closing your eyes, you take deliberate breaths into your nose, then letting them escape through your mouth. The dizzying tingles in your head tickle your brain. Your body feels floaty and unstable. You don't trust yourself to stand. Your hands rest on the top of your head to ease the thumping. The stickiness of the hairspray your friends made you wear clings to your fingers. You wipe the residue on your dress, not caring if it left a mark . . .

 _A dress is not a napkin. Do not wipe your fingers upon it. Straighten your back and smile. You need all the help you can to find a husband._

You try to shake your mother's past words out of your head. Some memories were meant to be forgotten. Especially those of locked rooms and choking lace. You exhale and place your forehead on your knees, hoping past pains would leave with your breath, but you know they will always be etched into your bones.

Eyes closed, you slam your head onto the back cushion as you straighten. Even with your eyes shielded, the ballroom is still vivid in your mind. The dim lights from the grand chandeliers still suffocate you and the smell of drunken party-goers sours your stomach.

You open your eyes, jumping in your chair when you see someone standing in front of you. Your heart beats furiously against your ribcage as the man flashes you a guilty smile.

"Forgive me," his smooth voice purrs. "I did not mean to frighten you."

You let out the air you were holding in. Somehow, this man calms you. Very rare for you to feel anything but contempt for a man, but it is even more rare for someone to sneak up on you. There was something about this man… but you can't deduce it within the two seconds you've known him!

The man is of medium height and regal stature. You appear to be of similar ages, but he has a timeless quality about him. His blue shimmersilk robes give acknowledgment to a noble background and high status. His red hair is somewhat long, brushed back in a dignified style. His nose is prominent and his smile is friendly. And his voice, well… it's enchanting. His icy eyes nearly lethal.

You analyze the way he looks at you. His eyes are neither lustful or wanting, merely curious. He looks up and down your body, not to admire your form, but to figure out what your next move will be. He is most likely perplexed by your stillness and silence. You quickly realize he analyzes his surroundings as you do.

With long fingers and graceful movement, the man gestures to the chair next to you, "May I?"

You nod without smiling. By now, most people would be deterred by your awkwardness, finding any excuse to walk away. Not him. He has an ease about him. You doubt he would find any situation uncomfortable.

He smiles softly as he moves to the chair, making it tilt toward you slightly as he sits. You do not tilt yours, letting it face the crowd. Still, he is not deterred.

"I've never been one for parties," he admits. "I guess I am ignorant to the appeal of booze and small talk. However, my comrades enjoy it, so here I am."

He pauses, giving you time to respond. You only respond by silently gazing at some couples dancing nearby. You don't want him to see your frigid demeanor begin to thaw. Something about him just fascinates you, but you don't want him to know. It's like he's in your mind and sees every thought that passes by. And even more, he agrees with your strange, introverted ways.

He begins again after a few breaths, "What about you? Are you a fellow lover of quiet corners within a room of false smiles?"

You glance at him, still amazed that he essentially repeated your thoughts and feelings upon entering the ballroom. You nod and smile slightly, trying to show agreement.

He smiles back, "I take it you're not one for small talk either."

You feel heat gather in your face as you look down at the marble floor. The shame on your face is evident. The man's bright eyes look at you with concern.

"Did I say something?" he coos apologetically. "Forgive me if I…"

You shake your head, cutting off his words. You then point to your throat, hoping he can deduce your meaning, and that you wouldn't have to use the pen and paper you always carry around.

He looks at your pointed finger, then gives a nod of understanding, "Ah, now I know who you are." He then says your name. This shocks you. You then expect him to leave, not wanting to be associated with the silent freak. However, he leans towards you, smiling.

"I am glad I have this chance to meet you. I have long heard about you. Not just for your mutism, but for your poetry. It is breath-taking, if I may be so bold."

You are taken aback, but a smile graces your face before you can stop it. Poetry is your escape. You never used to show your missives to anyone, but one day, you left your journal on a transport. By some twist of fate, it landed in the hands of a Coruscanti publisher. Now your poetry is a household staple, but your face is not. You never let the publishing company use your image, only your name and a vague bio. Against your will, however, the publishing company went to great pains to point out you lack of voice.

The man notices your smile. It seems to give him more confidence, "My favorite poem of yours is _Darkened Hope._ I love how that sonnet perfectly grasps at the complexity and, at times, the falseness of hope."

Once again, your face blushes. Both with flattery and shame. You are pleased he enjoys your work, but it was never meant to be shared with anyone. Especially _that_ poem. It was an extremely personal ode. You wrote it when your mother was terribly sick. At that time, you found yourself longing for her death. Only then would you be truly free.

She would not die for another five, excruciating years.

You notice the man's cheeks turn rosy. He shakes his head with embarrassment, "I do apologize. You must be tired of people talking to you about your work and here I am gushing like a schoolboy."

You shrug but smile at him, trying to convey that you don't mind. He laughs at himself a bit, then waves his hand dismissively.

"Where are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself. I am Ambassador Palpatine, representative of Naboo."

Your eyes widen. Yes, you did know this man. At least by reputation. After tragically being orphaned at seventeen, he quickly rose through the ranks of Naboo's legislature before securing the title of Ambassador at the age of twenty-eight. Very little was known about his personal life. He had never been the subject of scandal. He was known for his keen mind and subtle strength. His words were weapons if he so wished, but he was often described as a pleasant man who enjoyed his privacy.

He extends a hand. You extend your own, expecting a handshake. Instead, he gently kisses the top of your hand. He does not linger as some men tend to do. Still, he sends electricity up your arm. You inhale sharply, making your chest rise.

He lets go of your hand, smiling kindly. He then looks at the crowd of people beginning to dance to the sound of the string quartet. Palpatine then looks at you. He stands from his chair, moving in front of you. He extends his hand once more, bowing slightly at the waist.

"Shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

 ** _Music for Dance: The Vampire Masquerade by Peter Gundry_**

 ** _Or Piano version of Once Upon a December_**

 ** _Or Chopin - Nocturne op.9 No.2 (Anything by Chopin really)_**

You stare dumbfoundedly at the outstretched hand of Ambassador Palpatine. It takes you a moment to realize he is inviting you to dance with him. The thought sends a pleasurable chill down your spine. This surprises you. You were never one to dance. The few times you did dance was as a teenager, attending cotillions at your mother's request, forcing you to find an acceptable suitor. You felt like retching every time a young man wrapped his arm around your waist. Ever since then, the thought of dancing with a man fills you with dread.

However, the thought of dancing with the young ambassador suddenly turns you into a bashful and self-conscious little girl. He is an intriguing man who's cast a spell on you, breaking through your hardened exterior.

Palpatine notes your hesitancy and smiles, "I promise I don't bite."

Cautiously, you place your purse on the floor and take a gentle hold of Palpatine's hand. He smiles as he tenderly leads you to the dance floor. When he reaches the center, he lifts up your arm and softly twirls you, making the hem of your gown flow in a graceful circle. You smile, giggling silently. You can't remember the last time you truly smiled.

Palpatine seems to gain more confidence at the sight of your smile. He pulls you closer to him, slowly placing a hand on the small of your back. The warmth of his hand makes you gasp slightly. You can't stop yourself from blushing. Suddenly, all the technique you learned about ballroom dancing flies from your head. You begin to worry that you might step on his toes.

 _Just follow his lead!_ You tell yourself, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of this man.

The music pauses while the quartet prepares to transition into another song. While you both wait for the music to start again, you shift your glance towards your friends. Their eyes are fixed on you. Their jaws have dropped. They never expected you to be social, much less dance with the most sought-after bachelor on Coruscant. A group of men (who you suspect a Palpatine's friends) send him a questioning look, wondering why he would dance with the most awkward woman at the ball.

Palpatine ignores them. All his attention is on you. His icy stare is captivating.

The music begins again. The strings now play a slower, more intimate song. It is a song meant for lovers, making you keenly aware of Palpatine's touch. You feel yourself go rigid with an uncharacteristic sense of fear.

Palpatine brushes a loose strand of hair of away from your face. His fingers linger on your cheek, making you melt on the inside. He leans towards your ear, his lips so close to touching you.

"Relax," he purrs deeply.

He takes the lead, waltzing with you slowly. You see that he is a skilled dancer. He moves with self-assurance and grace. You don't heed your own dancing. You could be fumbling each step, but your attention is magnetized to Palpatine's face. He is mysterious yet friendly, making you feel happier than you have been in years. The warmth of his hands subdues you. You are surprised that his hand does not wander. It stays at the small of your back, never inching lower. You never thought there was such a thing as a true gentleman, but could Palpatine be one in a galaxy full of cads?

 _Don't be a fool!_ You chastise yourself _. I vowed never to fall for the charms of a man._

Oh, but you could feel that vow breaking with each second ticking by. Dancing with him moves you into a different state of mind. You are in a trance as you step and spin across the floor. Maybe it was his eyes. Maybe it was his smile. Or maybe it was the fact that he smells so intoxicating, like a masculine spice. Either way, he is taking an emotional hold on you.

You don't remember it happening. You have lost track of time, but when your mind finally comes back to the present, you find yourself cheek-to-cheek with the handsome ambassador as you dance slower and closer together.

You are stunned, but not for the reason you should be. You are not stunned by the fact that you are dancing so intimately with a man. You are stunned that you are enjoying yourself. You are stunned that, for the first time in your life, the blood in your veins actually feels warm. Palpatine hums along with the romantic song playing. You find his voice to be smooth and soothing, lulling you back into a trance. His hand on your back pulls you closer to him, which you do without question.

 _Weak fool!_ Your mind calls out to you. _Weak fool!_

You ignore your own warnings. This moment felt too good to stop. _He_ felt too good. You don't know how long you'd been dancing, but you heard the music wane. However, Palpatine kept dancing with you, reluctant to remove his cheek from yours.

He ceased dancing after a few more moments. You looked at each other, smiling happily. Your body felt like it was floating. Palpatine took one of your hands and kissed it gently.

"Thank you, my lady," he says, still holding on to your hand. You curtsy to him, feeling like a goofy schoolgirl in front of the attractive professor.

He still does not release your hand. Nor do you want him to. A mischievous smile crosses his face.

"Will you permit me to escort you through the roof's garden? It is quite lovely this time of year."

 _Is he ill?_ You wonder. Why is he so keen to spend time with you? The smart part of your brain is trying to shake you out of his spell, telling you that he is manipulating you. Unfortunately, the dumb part of your brain has taken over and you nod to Palpatine, eager to blindly follow his lead.

Palpatine beams and offers you his arm, "Wonderful."

You take his arm and begin walking out of the ballroom. You are so caught up in the moment that you don't notice Leeli and Jinn making their way towards you. All of a sudden, they just appear in front of you and Palpatine, lustful smiles on their faces. They don't look at you but instead leer at Palpatine. A wave of shame and jealousy hits you. They are so pretty and charming, you didn't stand a chance against them. Palpatine would surely forget about you within moments of meeting happy Leeli or saucy Jinn.

That's how it always went. Before you didn't care, but now you care more than you can bear.

"Well," Jinn purrs as she addresses you but her eyes are still on the ambassador. "Who has our little friend caught in her net?"

Palpatine smiles a half smile. Enough to be polite, but not enough to show genuine interest, "Hello ladies. I'm Ambassador Palpatine. If you would excuse us, we were just heading out."

Palpatine began to gently pull you along, but Jinn blocks his path, twirling her wavy hair and batting her eyelashes. With your arm wrapped around Palpatine's arm, you can feel his muscles stiffen. You glance at his expression. His lips are thin with disapproval, his eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is clenched as if trying to stop himself from saying something rude. His energy seems to change as well. His charming façade is slowly morphing into something more beastly.

"Why the rush?" Jinn inquires, tracing her index finger along the lapel of his dress robe. "Perhaps Leeli and I can join you. It would give us a chance to become better acquainted."

Palpatine touches her hand that is fondling his clothes. At first, you think it's a romantic gesture, but then he removes her hand from his body and lets it drop to her side. His eyes narrow even more.

"I think not." He says, his voice deep, sending a warning.

Leeli's eyes widen in alarm. Her eyes dance between a flabbergasted Jinn and an icy Palpatine. Then, without even trying to make an excuse, she awkwardly walks away and heads towards the bar. You look back at Jinn, whose face is like a fish caught by a cat. She recovers quickly and smiles at Palpatine once more.

"You must be quite the man if you find my friend's…uniqueness…appealing," Jinn says, letting all her subtlety drop. "But I promise I am worth your while."

Palpatine looks her up and down, then runs his hand through his hair.

"You are nothing," he says.

"I am nothing," Jinn repeats in a voice full of sincerity.

You gulp in surprise, looking at Palpatine, who is grinning wickedly. He winks at you, then speaks to Jinn again

"You apologize for being so insolent."

Jinn stares blankly, "I apologize for being so insolent."

"You're going to go home and cry yourself to sleep."

You can already see tears building up in Jinn's eyes, "I'm going to go home and cry myself to sleep."

As Jinn scurries away, wiping tears from her eyes, you can't stop yourself from laughing. Luckily, you're mute and no one can hear you, but if you had a voice, you would sound like a wild animal. After you finish laughing, you take in a deep breath and look at Palpatine, realizations began sinking into your brain. He just manipulated Jinn's mind! With Force-like power, he made her say what he wanted her to say. Did he have the Force? If so, why was he a politician and not a Jedi? Is he subtly controlling you too? Making you feel things you wouldn't feel otherwise.

On cue, you feel Palpatine take your had into his. You look into his eyes, seeing his facial expression is happy but serious.

"I apologize for my behavior," Palpatine confesses. "I'm sure you have many questions. I am Force-sensitive, but I never had any desire to become a Jedi. However, my…abilities do prove to be useful when dealing with the dregs of the galaxy." He finishes, glancing at a crying Jinn getting into taxi-speeder.

Palpatine then looks back at you, cupping your chin with his strong hand, "I assure you, I will never use my power against you."

You don't know if you believe him. Maybe all those happy feelings you felt while dancing with him were fake, just planted by him to manipulate you. Then again, he could be telling the truth and he is simply seeking a confidant. Do you dare risk giving him your trust? Dare risk putting your heart on the line?

Palpatine's face ashen, as if he can sense your doubt. He cups your cheek with his hand.

"Please don't fear me. There is a reason I have chosen a life of politics instead of the Force. Please…trust in me."

Palpatine offers you his arm again, his coy smile returning to his face. You look at his arm then up to his face. Accepting this small gesture could have major implications. You could be associated with this mysteriously powerful man forever. Under his sway for the rest of his life. He could either raise you up or bring you to your knees…

You take his arm and smile cautiously at him. He grins happily and leads you to the roof.

"You won't regret your decision," he says cheerfully.

You shrug. Even if you do one-day regret meeting this man, you have nothing to lose.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

After the mental skirmish with Jinn and learning that Palpatine is Force-sensitive, the rest of your evening is uneventful. You learn Palpatine is fluent in Eriadu sign language, so you are able to communicate with him more freely. You've never met someone outside of Eriadu who took the time to learn the language. You ask him why he learned.

He shrugs and smirks, "Why not?"

The ambassador escorts you to the garden, speaking softly about the flowers beginning to bloom. Coruscant's controlled climate system is now in a spring setting, making what little natural life that still exists on the city-planet thrive. It makes the night air warm and comfortable. However, being next to Palpatine makes you even warmer.

Your rendezvous in the garden feels like minutes to you, but by the time Palpatine escorts you back to the ball, hours have passed and servers are beginning to clean up.

"It seems I have monopolized you," Palpatine smiles. "I hope that you didn't want to spend more time at the ball."

You shake your head and smile. Dancing with Palpatine was fun, but the ball itself was stuffy and boring. Besides, going outside allowed you to recover from the party-guests' sickening auras. You count your blessings that you had a pleasant evening.

As you smile and stare like an idiot, Palpatine gestures toward a chair, "Shouldn't you grab your purse?"

Blinking, you have trouble comprehending his words. You follow his hand and see the chair you were slumped upon earlier, your purse resting on the floor beside it. You feel like a dunce for forgetting it in the first place while also surprised that no one stole it.

Nodding to Palpatine, you walk toward the chair and lift your purse off the floor. On instinct, you open it and rummage through its contents to make sure nothing has been taken. Everything appears to be there. Your purse is still the same jumbled mess it always is. Satisfied, you snap it shut and make your way back to Palpatine.

You feel yourself clench. This is where things could get awkward. The evening is coming to an end, but the night is not yet over. Do you part with the dashing ambassador? Or do you dare risk continuing the night with him?

He flashes you a smile and all rationality flies from your head. Your once calculating mind is becoming saturated with girly whims and desires. You begin to wonder if he is using his Force talents on you, but you sense he is not. In some ways that is worse. That means you are becoming a fool all on your own.

 _Oh, if mother could see me now! A handbag to a wealthy nobleman, just like she always wanted._

Palpatine licks his lips and ruffles his red hair. His cheeks are turning pink and his eyes start shifting with insecurity. For the first time all evening, he looks bashful. He knows this is where things get complicated. It amuses you to see Palpatine's confidence diminish slightly. You laugh a silent chuckle.

He hears your breathy laugh and raises an eyebrow, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy." You sign with your delicate hands.

Palpatine eyes you questioningly. You sense he doesn't fully accept your excuse, but at least he smiles, "Well, I'm glad to hear that. It has been quite an enjoyable evening."

The conversation pauses, threatening to breach the barrier between comfortable and awkward silence. You tighten the hold on your purse while your mind searches for anything to keep the conversation going. Unfortunately, your mind seems to be filled with nothing but empty space.

An old quote from your mother gives you a bittersweet solution.

 _Keep your chastity, girl! Only then will you have value in the eyes of society. However, when you finally meet a man of good breeding, I see no harm in offering him a nightcap._

As you try to push your painful past aside, you ask Palpatine if he would like to have a drink at your place.

His eyes widen and his mouth drops slightly. He eventually nods and smiles, "Why…yes! I mean, if you're sure…?"

You gulp and nod hesitantly. You aren't sure of anything right now, but you aren't ready to part with Palpatine either. For the first time in your life, you find yourself longing for companionship. It is a strange feeling. It feels like the space where your heart should be is empty. It is sickening and unbearable, but you long for this man.

"Well, alright," Palpatine says, beaming. "Wait here while I hail us a taxi. I'll be right back."

Palpatine touches your arm and kisses your cheek gently. You blush, wondering if you'll ever get used to the sensation of affection. You watch him walk away. Finally, you understand the appeal of ogling someone. Palpatine has a confident walk. Each stride is full of determination and purpose. You notice the way people look at him. They smile when he goes past, but their eyes show fear. You remind yourself of his reputation. Although he was known to be a soft man, he was also known to be politically astute and a ruthless wordsmith. Politicians of all backgrounds consider him to be a threat.

You smile. For some reason, people fearing him makes Palpatine more attractive in your eyes.

Leeli cautiously walks towards you. She keeps looking over her shoulder as if she is afraid Palpatine is going to sneak up behind her. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from smirking. For so long, you've been the omega in your friend group. Always being the one to be excluded and to never have a date. Now you were on the arm of the galaxy's next political rising star. Not even Jinn and her flirtatious charms could steal his attention away from you.

So it gives you pleasure now to see Leeli looking nervous in your presence.

"Hey," Leeli says as she stands in front of you. "Um, the rest of us are going to a club. Would you like to join us?"

Of course, as soon as you climb the social ladder, that is when your friends decide to be more kind and inclusive with you. These ballroom bimbos you've grown up with were trained from birth to hunt down men with money and do anything they could to obtain them. They were taught that this was their only purpose in life. You were always the interloper who fought against the box they tried to put you in. The only reason you were ever accepted was that you were the king's handicapped daughter. Still, you refused to bow to social pressure.

Now the tables have turned. It is oddly satisfying.

"Thanks, but I have other plans." You sign to Leeli. Her mouth drops.

"Oh! Okay…Well, that's good. Is it with….um…y'know…."

"Palpatine?" You finish Leeli's thought for her. "Yes, it is."

Leeli tries to look happy for you, but fails, "Wonderful! Shocking, but wonderful!"

You prepare a retort, but Palpatine walks through the main doors. He smiles as he rejoins you.

"I hope I am not interrupting. I wouldn't want to disrupt a bout of womanly scheming." Palpatine jests as he wraps an arm around your waist. He is quickly becoming very familiar with you, but then again, you are the one who offered him a drink at your place.

Leeli jumps at his sudden presence. Her voice becomes lighter and more breathy as she fumbles with the drink in her hand, "No! No, you're not interrupting. I was just checking on my friend, but I see she is in good hands."

Palpatine smirks with an air of appreciation. Not appreciation for her words, but for the fact she is uncomfortable in his presence, "Thank you. That is kind of you to say. However, you should check on your other friend. Jinn, was it? She looked quite distressed as she left."

You fight the smile that wants to form on your face. Little does Leeli know that it was Palpatine who so skillfully manipulated Jinn into tears. The depths of this man's talents continue to arouse you.

Leeli takes the hint in stride. She tries to smile at you, "Yes, well, I guess I'm off then. I'll see you later."

Leeli turns on her high-heels and teeters away.

Palpatine chuckles in the back of his throat as she leaves, "You certainly have interesting friends."

You roll your eyes and sign, "That's putting it mildly."

He takes the hand you were signing with and kisses it softly. He then places a hand on the small of your back, "Come, the speeder is waiting for us."

You walk as he coaxes you forward with his hand. Perhaps he is afraid you will change your mind and make a break for it. You have no such intention. In fact, you are tingling with anticipation, excited by the unknown. Enthralled by the mystique of your escort.

As you walk out the front door, you can see the taxi waiting by the elevated platform. A beep emanates from Palpatine. He sighs as he digs into his pocket. He pulls out a communicator and examines a new message.

He shakes his head, "Seriously?"

You tilt your head as you look at him, "Problem?"

"Yes, it seems Senator Kim needs my assistance. I have to leave immediately." Palpatine looks at you, seeing the smile leave your face. You look down at the ground, not proud of the feelings of sadness that floods you. Palpatine blushes in the crisp, spring air, "Oh, I am sorry. I was really looking forward to spending more time with you. Another time, I promise."

You nod slowly, still looking at the ground. Palpatine walks past you and leans into the speeder window to speak with the taxi driver. He then reaches into his pocket and hands something to the driver, muttering something you cannot hear.

When Palpatine walks back to you, he touches your arm softly, "I took care of the cab. Please take it. Go home and get some rest."

He's about to leave, but you hold up your hand, stalling him. "How will I get in touch with you?"

He smirks and winks, "Don't worry, I'll find you."

He walks away, gathering his friends as they leave the ballroom. You smile at his final words to you. From anyone else, they would have sounded like the catchphrase of a stalker. From him, they sound like the tantalizing teases of a mysterious gentleman.

You sigh and climb into the speeder. The driver doesn't speak to you. He just presses the accelerator and away you go. You lean back in the squeaky vinyl seats and tilt your head, letting it rest against the back window. Your eyelids are heavy and you allow yourself to close them. Hearing the audible whoosh of the taxi racing through the busy Coruscanti airway lulls you into a relaxed state. Even if this wasn't the way you wanted the evening to end, you are still more content than you have ever been.

 ** _BOOM!_**

Flames erupt from the speeder's engine as chunks of the covering fly past your window. Alarms blast in the cabin, filling it with warning red light.

"Strap in!" The driver yells. "She's going down!"

You fumble as you throw the emergency straps over your shoulders and cinch them around your abdomen. Your lungs become incapable of taking in air, your breath becoming shallow and shaky.

The taxi dips into a steep nose-dive. You get pushed into the seat, the skin on your cheeks pull back as you descend quickly through the many levels of Coruscant. The driver presses buttons and flips switches frantically, but nothing is working.

Through the windshield, you can see the ground grow closer and closer. You brace your self for what is to come. You claw at the seat, desperately trying to find anything to hold onto. Not that it's going to make a difference in the end.

The moment finally comes. The nose of the taxi crashes into the concrete. The impact sends your head flying back, smashing your skull against the glass of the back window. Your vision blurs and doubles, but you manage to stay conscious.

The speeder flips and begins sliding against the ground on its roof. A screech of metal deafens you. The friction of metal speeding on concrete heats the taxi, creating sparks that burn your arms and cheeks. You try to move, but the crash has jammed your seatbelt.

Finally, the speeder hits the wall of a building. When it hits, the back end of the speeder jumps upright before slamming back on the ground again. You jostle in your seat, trying to get your vision back to normal and trying to muster enough concentration to assess the situation.

You claw at the seatbelt buckle, fumbling to find the release button. The belt around you makes you feel cluster phobic and the caved-in metal of the compartment didn't help. You don't care that your upside down, you just want to get out!

The belt releases and you topple onto the speeder's flipped ceiling. You summersault on your head and land on your back with a crack. You let out a pained exhale, keenly aware of the glass fragments embedded in your scalp. Sitting up slowly, you wince as you pull the shards from your head, tossing them aside without a glance. You ignore the pain of the extractions. At least you are alive.

The same cannot be said for your driver.

You try to extend the arm that isn't picking out glass, but as soon as you try to move it, a ripple of pain spreads across your shoulder and back. You recoil, wishing you had a voice that could cry out in pain.

Not putting any weight on that arm, you crawl towards your driver. You shake his shoulder with your good hand, but he doesn't respond. You inch closer to get a better look. A large chunk of glass has penetrated his forehead and pierced deeply into his skull. Blood runs from his wound, down his dirtied hair, and splatters on the charred ceiling.

Most people would cry, but you only feel the uneasy shock that engulfs you.

You move your hand to a nearby door handle, trying to get the door open. It is no use. The metal of the roof has been dented and is pressing against the doors, making them nearly inoperable.

Leaning back on the ceiling, you thrust your feet against one of the doors. The hem of your skirt gets caught at the bottom of your heels, hindering your kicks. With a sigh, you rip off the lower half of your skirt, revealing most of your legs.

But that's not important now.

You slam your feet against the side of the door several times before you finally feel it give. When it does, you crawl and push it with all your might. It finally pries off its hinges, giving you just enough room to squeeze through.

In a one-handed scoot, you wiggle out of the speeder. Once you are completely free of that death trap, you slump face first onto the ground. You take a deep breath, hoping your heart will cease its crazed thumping. You know you should get up and find help, but your body refuses to respond to the commands your mind is giving it.

"Well, looky here boys! Looks like we found ourselves a lil' damsel in distress!"

You look up. Five guys come skulking from behind an alley and make their way towards you. They look like spice addicts, given their soiled clothing and decaying teeth. Their leader has a certain swagger as he comes to you. An evil glint shines in his eyes.

"What's the matter, love? Got some car trouble? We'd be more than happy to help you out. Wouldn't we, boys?"

He only got boisterous laughter as a response. He didn't seem to care. Taking advantage of your immobile state, he kneels in front of you and grips your jaw with his hand, forcing you to meet his gaze.

He licks his lips hungrily, "Of course, our services come at a cost. A mans got needs, you know. And five guys? Well . . . let's just say you'll be walking funny in the morning."

More laughter as the men start fiddling with the zippers near their crotch. Their leader moves in to kiss you, but you whip your jaw free of his hand and bite his finger. He howls at the sky. The metallic taste of blood touches your tongue before he yanks his finger from your teeth. With his other hand, he backhands you across the face. He then stands and kicks you in the gut. You land on your back, the wind knocked out of you. You clutch your stomach as he delivers another blow. His buddies join in, kicking you in your side. They cackle wildly during their beatings. You don't think they will ever stop . . .

But it does stop. You dare to open your eyes. The leader is clutching his throat, his face turning purple. He is lifted off the ground by some invisible hand. He is raised high in the air before being thrown into a nearby wall. His cronies tremble, looking around, trying to find the invisible attacker.

Then you hear a strained, malevolent chuckle.

"Up here," a deep voice calls out. You and the gang of thugs look up at the rooftop of the building. Standing on the edge is a slender man wearing dark robes. His raised hood coupled with the poorly lit street prevents you from seeing his face.

The leader of the gang wobbles to his feet, popping his neck, "Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing, mate? Can't you see I'm in the middle of a business transaction?"

You just hear the dark stranger release a throaty chuckle. He then flicks his wrist, revealing a metal cylinder. He does the same with his other hand.

"Your business has concluded, gentlemen. Move along."

The leader scoffs, "Oh yeah? Why don't you come down here and make us!"

Even though you couldn't see it, you felt your rescuer smile. Soon, a red beam of light shoots out of both cylinders, humming as it did so. Lightsabers! Jedi had them, but never red Lightsabers. Only one group used those…but they were extinct…

Could this really be a Sith?

The man jumps off the high ledge, landing silently near your attackers. His blades cross in front of him. He moves toward the leader of the gang.

"If you insist."

One of the thugs try to jump the hooded man from behind, but the Sith spins his Lightsabers in his hand and impales the thug without even turning around. Another man lunges from the side, but he is pushed back with a mighty kick. The Sith jumps high in the air, spinning as he slices one of the thugs down the middle. Two men try to tackle him, but he turns on his heels and beheads them both with a single blow. The man who was kicked away gets to his feet and runs, but the Sith throws one of his blades and skewers the running man in the spine.

The Sith turns to face the leader, "Four have fallen. Only one remains."

The sleazy leader raises his hands, trying to block whatever's coming, "Please! Please! It was all in good fun! I didn't mean any harm!"

As if considering his words, the hooded warrior falls silent. He slowly lifts clawed hands toward the gang leader. In a sudden burst of light, streaks of lightning fly from his fingertips and into the criminal's body. The thug crumbles to his knees, squealing like a pig for slaughter. His skeleton is highlighted as volts of electricity desecrates his body.

"I can see your thoughts," the Sith murmurs as he agonizingly kills his prey. "Trust me when I say this is the most merciful ending for you."

The leader's screams start to wane and his body stops convulsing. Only then does the Sith cease his attack.

You are on the ground, not daring to get up. You slowly get on your knees and then to your feet. You want to say thank you, to express how relieved you are he came to your aide.

You begin walking toward him…

He sees your approach and acts quickly. He deactivates his blade and grabs you by the shoulders, slamming you face first into a wall. He grabs your already injured arm and twists it behind your back. Once again, you want to cry out in pain but can't.

"And what of you?" the warrior hisses behind you. "What should I do with you?"

You cry. Tears fall onto the cheek that is smushed against the stone wall. You tremble in his hold. The nearness of his body against yours scares you.

"Do you want me to let you live?" he teases.

You nod frantically, willing to do anything he asks, just as long as he spares you.

He chuckles at the sight of your sobbing, "Would you dare speak of this to anyone?"

You shake your head.

The Sith leans a little bit closer to your ear, "Good. I sense you are telling the truth. But it matters not. No matter if you share your story or not, I will remain."

With that, he releases you from his grasp and walks away. He moves to the thug who has his Lightsaber in his back and yanks it out. He then turns to look at you again.

"My time is coming, sweet child. Soon all will cower at the feet of Darth Sidious."


	4. Holiday Update :)

Hello lovely readers :) I am just here to say that I will be unable to update any new chapters to this story for a week :P I am in Washington right now and will be living in a rustic cabin with no wifi (I am now in a mcdonalds with sketchy wifi :P) I am here celebrating the holidays with my family. Please know I am NOT quitting these stories, i love them sooo much and want to keep going, I just thought it fair to you guys to let you know the situation :)

Have a joyful winter season and a happy new year!

PS: When I posted In Sickness & In Darkness, My first darth vader fic , Vulnerable, got 646 views in one day! Holy Moly! That means alot to me! It means people came back and probably re-read my first story :) Thank you sooo much :) You're the tops!


	5. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

 _Are you alright?_

 _Give her some air, for Force sake!_

 _We need a medic!_

 _The hospital is just a few minutes from here!_

 _Stay with us! Stay with us!_

Your body sucks in a breath as you sit upright. A needle has been jabbed into your arm, making the surrounding area numb and bruised. Your shoulder is wrapped in a bandage and your ribs ache with the slightest movement. A tightness is coiled around your forehead. You can see the edge of a bandage peeking over your brows.

 _What the...Where am I? What happened?_

You turn your neck to look around, but a sharp pain travels from your neck, across your shoulder, and down your spine. The injuries to your shoulder and ribs impede your upper body movement. You move only your eyes.

The room you are in is sterile white. You can hear your heartbeat being amplified by some machine. You are no longer in your dress. Instead, it has been replaced with some mass-produced hospital gown.

The door to your room slides open and a med droid rolls in.

"I see you are awake," it says emotionlessly. "Is there anything you require?"

You lift up your hands, hoping this droid is programmed enough to understand you, "What happened to me?"

The droid makes a whirring noise, "I do not understand this form of communication. I will retrieve a protocol droid. Until then, can you tell me if you are in substantial pain? A nod or shake of the head will suffice."

Were you in pain? Yes, your body did hurt, but not enough to be considered substantial. A reasonable amount, given that you fell out of the sky.

You shake your head, growing tired of the incompetent droid.

"Very well. I will retrieve a protocol droid now."

The droid rolls away, leaving you alone with pain and clouded memories. Sighing, you rub your temples, hoping your souring stomach keeps its contents. The night is a blur. You don't even know what time it is. You remember the ball and your moments with Palpatine, but everything after is fuzzy. The sound of the explosion still rings in your ears. You can see the angular shard of glass that protruded from the driver's skull. You crawled from the crash, were almost assaulted, and then . . .

 _My time is coming, sweet child. Soon all will cower at the feet of Darth Sidious._

And then you were saved by a Sith. A member of a group the Galaxy has deemed evil. You remember him shoving you against the wall and toying with you. However, the fact that without him, you would've been violated and possibly killed looms over your head.

The room door slides open again. A silver protocol droid with many limbs waddles in.

"Hello, young human. I am 11-4D. I am programmed for etiquette, communication, and medical protocol. I was told you are in need of a translator. How can I be of service?"

"How long have I been here?" You sign to the droid, hoping you weren't wasting your time.

"Six hours and seventeen minutes. The medics sedated you to ease the pain of your dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs. Oh, and I almost forgot about the twelve stitches in your scalp."

Your eyes widen, "My ribs are cracked?"

"Yes, four of your rib bones are cracked. It appears the damage was caused by multiple blows."

You cringe, clutching your side in pain.

"When can I leave?" You ask 11-4D.

The droid does not respond right away. It looks out the hospital room window then looks back at you, "You can ask Ambassador Palpatine about that."

On cue, Palpatine walks into the room with doctors on his tail. He stands beside you and takes your hand, "I got here as soon as I could. I am getting you a release…"

"She should stay for observation. Head injuries and trauma are not to be taken lightly." A doctor interrupts Palpatine. "Besides, we cannot release her into your care. You are not family."

Palpatine's grip on your hand tightens. You see him compress his lips into a thin, frustrated line. He then takes in a deep breath and turns to face the perturbed doctor, "I appreciate your strict adherence to protocol doctor, but if you take the time to examine the facts, you will see it is unnecessary. What more can you do for her now? What treatments are left for you to perform?"

The doctor trips over his words, "Th-There are no more treatments, but just in case something goes wrong, she should stay…"

"Nothing will go wrong," Palpatine says silkily. "Unless you doubt your skills and think the treatments you have done so far are inadequate. Is that what you are implying?"

All the color drains from the doctor's face. His hands ball into fists and his body shakes, "No, I am not suggesting that. Still, none of this changes the fact that you are not family! This hospital is run on strict policies and guidelines. No patient shall be released to a non-family member without the written consent of the overseeing physician. As her overseeing physician, I refuse to release her into your care!"

"Doctor, I am surprised by you," Palpatine smirks coyly. "I thought a man of your intellectual stature would have a better memory. I too know the guidelines of this… _charity_ hospital. You only stated half of the policy. The policy you alluded to states that no patient shall be released to a non-family member without the written consent of the overseeing physician _or_ the consent of the patient themselves, given they are of sound mind."

The doctor points to the bandage wrapped around your head, "She suffered a head injury! She is clearly not…"

You clap your hands loudly, stopping everyone's bickering. They all turn to look at you. The doctors and nurses look surprised. Palpatine smiles.

"I am right here," you sign angrily. "I can hear you. And as the patient, I would like a say in this matter."

The doctor looks over at 11-4D, "Do you know what she is saying?"

11-4D nods, "Yes sir. She says that she can hear you and wants to be part of the decision-making process."

"Thank you," you sign to 11-4D. "Now, if the injured woman can interject, she would prefer to get out of this hospital and back to her apartment. And she gives her consent to be escorted home by Ambassador Palpatine."

11-4D translates everything you said to your doctor, who is turning multiple shades of red. You see his chest rise as he takes a stabilizing breath and releases with an audible sigh, rubbing his forehead in defeat as the other doctors whisper advice in his ear.

"Alright miss," he finally acquiesces. "I'll fill out those discharge papers for you."

The medical staff shuffles out of the room, leaving only 11-4D and Palpatine behind. Before Palpatine has a chance to speak again, you raise your hands to sign. Questions are racing through your mind.

"How did you know I was here?" You sign. "Are you following me?"

Palpatine chuckles in the back of his throat, "You give me too much credit. HoloNet journalists reported the crash. I saw the broadcast whilst conversing with Senator Kim."

You gulp. That seems plausible enough, but somehow his explanation doesn't feel entirely truthful. While you're in thought, Palpatine places a hand tenderly on your cheek, eyeing the bandage on your head. His eyes seem sad as he appraises the rest of your injuries. He is unusually quiet before speaking again.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs under his breath, his eyes avoiding your gaze. You touch his hand that is on your cheek. Only then does he look at you.

"I should have been there," he continues, his tone growing more despairing. "I could've done something. Anything to keep you out of that horrible situation. It is all my fault."

You stop yourself from smiling. You find his need to take care of you adorable. You may be the daughter of a king, but no one has ever treated you like a princess. Being the freak among your siblings, you were the oddity no one wanted to address. For as long as you can remember, you've had to take care of yourself. The servants of the Royal Family avoided you due to how frustrated you would get when you were younger, unable to communicate. Often you would act angrily when people couldn't understand you. In the eyes of your family, you were a broken-down charity case who just took up time and space.

The sight of Palpatine taking such responsibility for your well-being is refreshing.

You squeeze his hand with yours, signing with the free one, "It wasn't your fault. No one could have predicted that this would happen."

"I still feel responsible," he admits, then shakes his head at himself. "I'm sorry. You must think I am crazy. We just met and here I am worried about your wellbeing."

You shrug, "It may be crazy, but it is also very cute."

Palpatine raises an eyebrow and smiles.

Realizing you called him cute, you blush. Your hands tremble as you try to rephrase, "I meant nice! I just...yeah sure, let's go with nice."

"I'll go with whatever word you want me to," Palpatine purrs.

At this point, 11-4D makes whirring noises, his gaze moving back and forth between you and Palpatine. He then holds one of his mechanical fingers to one of his "ears", listening to an incoming communication. He nods his shiny head and walks towards Palpatine.

"Excuse me sir, but Magister Damask is hailing me. He wishes to let you know he has arrived & that he hopes the young princess is recovering. Is there anything else you require before I go to him?"

At the sound of the magister's name, you see all the muscles in Palpatine's face clench. Red gathers on his cheeks. He then gulps, trying to play off his visible reaction.

"No droid. You may go." Palpatine replies brusquely.

As the droid's silver legs carry him away, you see Palpatine look out the window and into the waiting room. His gaze lands on a male muun, a prominent species of the Banking Clan. You look at the muun as well. You see that he is of great wealth. His garbe is made of the finest silk with extremely intricate designs. He is tall and pale like must muuns along with a barely visible nose. You notice he seems older with the wrinkles around his eyes, which had a small tint of yellow.

Palpatine eventually turns back to look at you. You shoot him a questioning look.

"Who is that man?" you ask.

"A business associate," Palpatine replies a little too quickly. "I thought I told I'd canceled our meeting, but he tends to follow his own agenda."

You smile, "A true mark of a businessman."

Palpatine nods without humor, "Yes, but tonight, I am not focused on petty business matters. Tonight I am focused solely on making sure you heal."

You try to smile, but you can feel the muun staring at you through the window. You can feel him analyzing you. For what reason, you have no idea, but it freaks you out.

Before you could worry too much, Palpatine touches your cheek again, his face full of concern.

"Are you sure you're alright? You look quite flushed."

You nod, but Palpatine isn't letting off the hook. He places the back of his hand on your forehead as if taking your temperature. He shakes his head while making disapproving noises.

"Whatever medication the doctors gave you is causing you to burn up." Palpatine's voice became a snarl for a moment. He quickly became caring again. "What happened after the crash? Do you remember?"

You swallow dryly, not really keen on sharing your ordeal with anyone, let alone Palpatine. However, the look of adoration in his eyes coaxes the words out of you. You tell him about your dead driver and how you broke out of the fiery speeder. He grew angry as you described the men that almost assaulted you.

"Damn animals," he growled between clenched teeth. "Does no one have decency anymore?"

You smile at his remark, continuing with your story. Finally, you reach the part about your savior with the red lightsabers. You freeze. Do you dare tell him? Do you lie about the fact that you think your hero was a Sith?

Palpatine notices your hesitancy, his brow furrowing in curiosity, "What? What is it?"

You sigh and look away from him, "You'll think I'm crazy."

"It has already been a crazy night," Palpatine assures you. "I will believe anything at this point."

You nod, realizing you lose nothing if you tell him the truth.

"A man saved me," you began. "A very strange man."

Palpatine raised an eyebrow, "Strange how?"

"He had two...Lightsabers," you struggle to say. "Red Lightsabers."

His mouth drops slightly, "Red Lightsabers? Like the ones dark Jedi use to carry?"

You nod.

Palpatine shakes his head, "Astonishing! I was lead to believe the Sith were eradicated a thousand years ago by the Jedi."

You shrug, "I just know he had red sabers. He didn't exactly stick around to chat. Perhaps he was just a fanatic."

Palpatine is about to nod in agreement, then he sees the bruises on your arm that were caused by the Sith twisting it back.

"Are they from the fanatic?" he inquired firmly.

You cover up the marks, "It's nothing."

"If he laid a hand on you, it is definitely not nothing! Why did he do that? I thought he saved you?"

"He did, but he killed everyone. He just threatened me to keep me quiet. I said I wouldn't tell anyone what happened, but then he said it didn't matter."

Palpatine scoffs, "How can it not matter?"

You shake your head, "Something about people bowing at the feet of Darth Sidious."

"Darth? Sounds like a Sith name. Perhaps the Senate should be alerted. They would want to know if a Sith attacked a citizen of the Republic"

You touch Palpatine's arm, trying to placate him, "It really could be nothing. He could just be a crazy man who happened upon two Lightsabers. Let's not burden the Senate. Besides, it seems like a Jedi matter."

Palpatine rolls his eyes but says nothing. The perturbed came back into the room carrying a datapad.

"Here are her discharge orders, Ambassador. And once again, I strongly suggest that this is not in her best interest," the doctor tries to persuade Palpatine.

"I understand that, doctor. However, I assure you she will be fine." Palpatine counters with a smug smirk. "Good night, doctor."

The physician signals for two nurses to come in the room. They detach you from all the medical equipment. Once they are done, they present you with a set of scrubs.

"We're sorry, but your dress is extremely damaged. Here are some clothes for you."

You take them. The nurses shoot Palpatine a nervous look.

"Um, sir, if you would like to wait outside for a moment…"

Palpatine looks confused, then he realizes you need to change. His eyes widen and his cheeks turn rosy, "Oh! Yes...well, I'll just be outside when you're done."

He walks out as the nurses close the window curtains. They scuttle away too, letting you dress in peace.

Despite how long the night has been, you suspect it's far from over.

Your ordeal with the crash is over. Your time under the care of Palpatine is just beginning. You have no idea what's coming next.


	6. Deserved Update

Hey, guys & gals...this is a well a deserved update for all of you. As you can tell, I haven't updated in awhile. For that, I apologize and you may still have to wait a little longer. I work 3 jobs and am a student. When I wrote "Vulnerable", I was just a student with no job, so time was more plentiful. Plus then I was going through a rough emotional time & writing that story helped me process it.

Now, any leisure time is scant at best & my emotional state is balanced (knock on wood). So, I'm just writing this to let all you kind & patient readers know that I plan to continue my stories, I'm just figuring out a way to clone myself or grow 4 more arms :P

Thank you! Have a wonderful day or night or whatever you want ;)


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